


Piano Promise

by sunset_oasis



Series: Rhythms of Love [23]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU where everything is the same except Roger plays the piano, F/F, F/M, M/M, Marcus & Roger friendship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 08:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunset_oasis/pseuds/sunset_oasis
Summary: "As we've already established, I'm going to play at your wedding, so it's good you like the music.""First of all, when the fuck have we established that? Second of all – I'm not going to get married," Marcus scoffed. "I'm going to play Quidditch forever."





	Piano Promise

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

1987.

His muggleborn mother came from a family with music interests, and she taught him to play the piano at a young age. He grew up learning two kinds of magic – the kind with spells and potions and flying objects, and the kind that flow out of various music instruments, but especially the piano. To Roger, the magic of the music wasn't less amazing than the magic of the wizarding world.

His fingers moved across the piano quickly, and the musical notes flowed out smoothly. Melodic. He liked the sound of the piano, how it made the music feel fuller, richer. When he played, he usually felt like he was in his own world, in an enclosed bubble, far away from the world.

"Hey," a voice interrupted him, and he gradually, reluctantly, pulled himself away from his own world of piano sounds. "You said you'd come to practice flying with me at three."

Had it been three already? Well, time did fly exceptionally fast when he was playing, he supposed. He glanced up at the clock, and found that it was still twenty minutes to three.

"It's not three yet, Marcus," Roger huffed.

"It's three on my watch," Marcus shrugged, and Roger sighed.

"That's because you tempered with it and made it twenty minutes faster," he rolled his eyes. This wasn't the first time this happened. He was ten, and wouldn't be going to Hogwarts for another year, but by the way this was going, he was starting to wonder did all Slytherins use tricks like this. Well, if they accused him of stereotyping, he would tell them to blame Marcus Flint.

"So?" Marcus asked, completely unabashed.

"One more song?" he bargained.

"Fine," Marcus sighed long-sufferingly, relenting.

"Cool," Roger grinned, and proceeded playing, falling back into his musical world. It was when the song ended, 5 minutes later, that he realized that even though at first glance, he appeared to be the one winning and Marcus had to yield and let him play one more song, it was  _still_  more than 10 minutes to three as they headed out to fly.

Well, whatever, flying was another one of his hobbies anyway.

But still, life hack note to self: aim high, ask for more, and even if you didn't get them all, you're still likely to end up with more than you originally have.

 

* * *

 

1990.

"I've been meant to ask you something," Marcus yelled at him as the wind blew past them. They were on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch now.

"Like, how do I keep my hair in a fashionable style even when the wind is strong?" Roger called back, before diving down sharply on his broom and then pulling back up again.

"No – wait, actually, maybe that too. But what I was thinking was, how did you keep up with your piano practices while you're at Hogwarts? I mean, you can't have brought a piano here, can you?"

"Why do you ask?" Roger smirked, amused. "Do you fear that if I don't have another hobby taking up my time from Quidditch practices, it would be impossible to beat me?"

"Very funny," Marcus rolled his eyes, throwing the Quaffle up high before catching it again. "I'll beat you anyway. Just curious is all."

"Well, I've got a keyboard here," Roger shrugged. "But not a whole piano. Granted, the sounds are not exactly the same, but it'll do."

"Huh," Marcus said, throwing the Quaffle at him. "What about the hair thing?"

"Ohhh, that," Roger laughed, flying to catch the Quaffle as he yelled back. "Just my natural charm, I guess."

 

* * *

 

1992.

It was summer again. Marcus was tutting at him impatiently as he played an extremely long song before they planned to head out flying.

"C'mon, don't be so impatient," Roger laughed. "Learn to appreciate good music."

"It's okay, I guess," Marcus shrugged, indifferently. "But this one's so damn long."

"It's  _okay_? Excuse me, it's more than okay, I'll have you know."

"Fine, whatever," Marcus rolled his eyes.

"One day I'm going to get so good, and you're going to invite me to play at your wedding," Roger drawled as he ended the song.

"Yeah right," Marcus said impatiently, "could we go now?"

 

* * *

 

1993.

"I didn't know you play the piano," Cho Chang said. They were in Roger's dorm, discussing some stuff they read on the latest Quidditch magazine. Her eyes landed on his set of keyboard curiously. "My friend Marietta plays, too."

Roger's eyes lit up in delight. "Really? She's in your year, right? You need to introduce us sometimes."

Cho chuckled.

 

* * *

 

1993.

"They're cancelling Quidditch! How dare –"

"Calm down, Marcus."

They were on the Hogwarts pitch alone again. Due to the petrification of several students, all the games were currently cancelled. Marcus was a raging fit, complaining that this was his last year and he didn't want to miss the last chance to win.

"You and Oliver Wood should file some formal complaint together," Roger said, "I heard yesterday that he was complaining about all the cancellations too."

"Fuck Wood," Marcus said irritably.

Roger's lips twitched in amusement. "Well, that too, I guess. If you want."

Marcus glared at him. "Don't _you_  want to fight for it?"

"Sure, I miss the games, but, on the other hand – there's nothing I can do about it. If the Quidditch captains of sixth and seventh year couldn't get McGonagall to change her mind, you think a lowly fourth could?"

 

* * *

 

1993.

"… Don't tell me you intentionally failed your NEWTs because you didn't get the chance to win the Quidditch Cup last year."

"Don't be stupid," Marcus said sharply. "Shut up and play your piano."

Roger's eyes widened. If  _Marcus_  was telling him to play the piano, then things seemed worse than he'd originally thought. He turned his head to the left and found the other guy glancing out of the window.

Honestly, Roger wasn't sure what to say now. He was never good at this stuff, and there was currently one way he could think of to deal with this. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then began playing.

He figured that soft, lighter notes probably wouldn't work as well as the stronger, grander, more powerful ones right now. He quickly ascended into a high speed, a quicker rhythm, and he could feel the intensity building up to the climax point, as if something was going to burst soon. For a moment, he lost himself in it.

The moment passed, and he reminded himself why he was doing this. After the climax came a few sharp, quick, separate notes, and then he slowed down, settling for something calmer. He eyed Marcus from the side, and thought he looked a little more relaxed now. Roger felt slightly relieved as he reached the end of the song.

The room was quiet for a few seconds. Then Marcus said, "I've never realized this before, but you seem to play pretty okay."

Roger's mouth quirked up to a half smile at what could almost be considered a compliment, coming from Marcus. "Well," he said lightly, glad that everything seemed to be okay now, "as we've already established, I'm going to play at your wedding, so it's good you like the music."

"First of all, when the fuck have we established that? Second of all – I'm not going to get married," Marcus scoffed. "I'm going to play Quidditch forever."

"I wasn't aware those are mutually exclusive," Roger raised an eyebrow.

"I am  _not_  getting married."

"Well … I can compromise and play at your Quidditch-themed elopement party?"

 

* * *

 

1994.

"How do you feel about going up against the Potter kid next week?"

"Well, it's going to be a challenge. I've seen how that kid fly." Cho said thoughtfully. After a pause, a grin slowly spread across her face. "But it's also going to be fun."

"Got any specific moves planned?" He asked casually.

"Actually, yes. Came up with something when I was viewing Cedric's memory of the game he played against him."

"Diggory, huh?" Roger raised a wiggling eyebrow, smirking. "How generous of him."

She blushed slightly. "Stop it, Roger."

"Fine," he laughed. "Well, so what's the tactic?"

"How about I show you?"

"Now?" Roger halted. He remembered Marcus had asked him if he wanted go flying earlier, but he'd turned him down because he wanted to practice the keyboard. Well, Cho's the seeker on Roger's team and Roger thought that this situation should be understandable …

He put the keyboard back into his trunk and took out his broom. "Let's go."

 

* * *

 

1994.

"Dementors costume, really, Marcus?" Roger said drily. They were drinking butterbeers at Three Broomsticks, where actual,  _real_  dementors had passed by them before they had come in.

"Don't lecture me about sportsmanship, not right now."

"Wasn't going to. I was just going to say that doesn't look like a real dementor at all, and also that casting the temperature charm might have more effect. Did you guys do your research on the dementors thoroughly?"

"…. Are all Ravenclaws completely insane or what?" Marcus scowled at him. "Anyway, your seeker hadn't even managed to catch the snitch before Potter. What a bloody waste of time."

"Not exactly. I think  _your_  seeker learnt one thing, it's that he finds Potter attractive while casting the Patronus Charm." Roger smirked. "What? Trust me, us Ravenclaws know the most accurate rumors."

 

* * *

 

1994.

The Great Hall was crowded, everyone dancing in their best dress robes. The Weird Sisters was playing a Christmas romance song on the stage. Normally, Roger would have some well-thought comments on the piano performance, but tonight he'd been unable to think clearly while he was with Fleur Delacour.

When he was near her, he couldn't help but be affected by the veela charm of hers. He was helplessly attracted, but he also wasn't himself. The unnatural attraction felt a bit annoying, and he let out a relieved sigh when he finally got out of her proximity.

"Most people wouldn't look relieved to leave their pretty veela date," Marietta remarked in amusement as Roger turned to face her.

"Well," Roger shrugged, his lips quirking upwards. "Most people are stupid. Fancy a dance?"

She gauged him with appraising eyes. "Sure. Probably a bit of a letdown after you've danced with Fleur Delacour though."

He grinned, easy and slow. "I'm pretty sure it won't be." As he held out a hand, she took it.

They danced.

 

* * *

 

1995.

Roger and Marcus exchanged letters frequently after Marcus's graduation. Roger complaining about how Quidditch was stopped the whole year, Marcus complaining about how being on the same team with Oliver Wood was no less annoying than being on the rival team.

" _Fucked him yet?_ " Roger wrote back.

" _What the fuck are you talking about?!_ "

" _You know, the offer to play piano at your wedding / Quidditch-themed elopement party is still standing._ "

" _Do I have the option of rejecting?_ "

" _Not really._ "

 

* * *

 

1996.

Neither Marietta nor Roger approved of much about Cho going on a date with Harry Potter, but they didn't stop her as she seemed determined.

"I don't want to be pessimistic, but," Marietta began.

" _But_ ," Roger agreed, emphasizing the word. "Well, let's be  _realistic_ , then." He suggested.

"We could … stay near for damage control," Marietta frowned.

They glanced at each other.

"It's not that I don't like Potter," Marietta ventured. "Well, besides the fact that he's always going to put saving the world first before everything."

"And you think that she deserves better," Roger said, thoughtfully.

"Yeah, people like …" she stopped suddenly, as if catching herself.

"Me?" Roger replied slowly, his eyes locking hers. "Or  _you_?"

She swallowed, and he could feel the air tense up between them. "How about both?"

 

* * *

 

1996.

" _I just thought I should tell you, that Wood and I are dating."_

" _Do I need to pretend to be surprised, or am I allowed to say I told you so?_

_p.s. Should I start preparing the wedding playlist?"_

 

* * *

 

1996.

"Sorry if I screwed your chances with Potter," Marietta said, her voice careful. Slow.

Cho drew a deep breath. "Granger did this to you, and you're worried about me and Harry? Anyway, I don't think it's ever really going to work with him."

Marietta shrugged uncomfortably. "Thought I should still ask."

They met each other's eyes. "You're still pretty, you know."

"Don't lie, Cho," Marietta said, her throat tightening as she thought about the word tattooed across her forehead.

"You'll always be pretty to me," Cho insisted, brushing a finger across Marietta's cheek.

Marietta gave Cho a faint smile. "Hey, you know what? I think you're too good for Potter anyway –" her words got lost as Cho moved forwards, kissing her.

"Oi," Roger interrupted drily. "Hello there."

Cho jumped away, blushing. "Sorry – I –"

"Nah," he waved airily. "Just want to ask when my turn is. If you're willing, that is."

Cho looked at Marietta. Marietta shrugged. "He might get the cleverest line, but it doesn't mean I'm not on board with it."

"She was looking at you in that dress when we were at the Yule Ball," Roger added, with a playful grin.

"So was  _he_ ," Marietta shot back. And then they were all laughing, a bit breathlessly, a bit hysterically, the pressure that'd been building up in the past, difficult year seeping away.

"I meant it when I said you'll always be pretty to me," Cho said, after the laughter died down.

"Me, too," Roger added.

Marietta smiled. "Well, you both have weird tastes. But I'll take it."

 

* * *

 

1998.

The war was finally over. They got out, with relatively less scars than some, but not totally unscathed either. Cho worked at St. Mungo's now. Marietta worked in the Ministry, while Roger was signed chaser by the Falcons. Some nights Marietta and Roger played the piano at the pub Dean and Seamus opened in the Diagon Alley.

Roger and Marcus's owl exchange had gotten less and less during the war, with Marcus hiding out to avoid joining the Death Eaters (Voldemort had been targeting former Slytherin students) and almost altogether disappeared near the end.

And then one day Roger got a letter.

" _When do you think you can get that wedding playlist ready?_ "

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://ff-sunset-oasis.tumblr.com)


End file.
